A man sits alone, looking into a mirror of life and time...
Seeing what was, what has gone, and what may never be again...
Trying to hold on, trying to feel all is not despair...
Looking for an answer to the pain, a solution to the problem,
a decision on ones's future...
Trying to call out to love, silently crying in pain...
To need not to ask, not to want, but truly need!
What has happened? Where is the expression?
Is it that hard to see death, to recognize it in it's early stage?
Or does no one want to commit to loving...
Fully, without a guarantee?
Alone a man sits... tales of love pass on by.
No love entering his hollow corpse...
Perhaps love knocks at the door, but true love is needed.
A love that enters without being asked to come in.
A love, true and pure, unadulterated by it's own fears of rejection and loss.
This man sits alone and empty, praying for the pain to be no more...
If only love would be true and there when one needs it.
Instead of words of love, which are often too late...
People love and they care, who cares enough to truly love without fear?
The man sits alone, empty, drained, in pain...
His body breaks down.
His love crys out once more...
Crying for a reflection...
Life goes on...
Where did the man go?
Perhaps he never was...